“There, there,” she sang and stroked the base of his snout with her good hand to make his nostrils flare in response. “You love the shade of the grove, don’t you?”
The unicorn pushed passed her until he reached the swaying drapes of the nearest wisteria. It made him quiet and softened the dry look of bewilderment in his eyes. Sometimes when Sarah brought him here his breathing shifted from his usual pulsing grunt to something so whispery and light he may have been singing a song, if animals could sing songs. But why the grove cast this spell of serenity over him was a secret for the unicorn alone, along with why he never left her side and why he had chosen Sarah of all the other villagers to enslave.
She did not flinch when the tears began to fall. Among the wisteria was his only distraction. With her right hand she got to work spreading the healing mucous of his snout she had collected, instantly clotting the blood that glistened over the gashes on her knees and ankles. Nothing could be done for the broken bones of her left.
Image by Natalialix on Pixabay
No comments:
Post a Comment